Neither encumbered with
     material trappings, nor money,
(neither of which I miss)
mine existence approxi-
     moxy mates (to me),
     the state of psychic,
     intrinsic, and bucolic bliss
though far removed

     from civilization distant
     as thee (myopic) eye can see,
     a benevolent, redolent,
and verdant pristine premise
bespoken, expressed, and invoked
     to cosmic consciousness, especially
     threats (to life and limb
     courtesy **** sapiens),
    
     isolated wilderness
absent villagers tsuris,
this monk thank
     fully doth dismiss
homestead of unspoiled habitats
though contact with eldest,
     and youngest sis
plus deux darling daughters,

     the only people, whose absence
     accompanies me to wince
with gentle hug, and air kiss
communing with nature
     faintly conjures Swiss
Family Robinson
similarities, though this
subarctic Siberian wilderness

connotes more drastic
     (ideal to me) solitude perfect
     remote abode tubby remiss,
cuz this loner loathes
     to impress others,
     who don, and
     trumpet an (all self)
     important air of priss

see ness, no thank dear reader,
     I revel as a misanthrope
     glad to isolate myself
breathe deep sigh relief asper,
     not being party to hiss
see fit, nor participate in
     superficial rituals like...Christmas.